The Checklist (Explicit Version)

Chapter 20

My chest deflated when she strode past me, toward the street.

Her reaction wasn't new, but it stung either way.

It's been over a week since she spoke to me, but I've dropped by every day, either before or after work. At first, I stayed in front of her house, waiting for her to eventually leave, but she never did. After two days of rescheduling with my clients, Spike ripped me a new one.

Then I punched him.

It was in the heat of the moment, but I didn't regret it. It was gonna happen eventually, after that mother fucker told her about Remi.

I had no right being mad. I wanted to fucking tell her for over a month. But the choice was ripped from me, and now she wouldn't listen. She wouldn't even look at me. And I fucking hated him for it. I hated myself more.

After that, I took it easy, but I couldn't stop myself from dropping by. Especially today, knowing how important today was to her.

Lowering the bouquet onto a stair, I made sure it wouldn't fall before I spun in Althea's direction, only to see her stop in front of a parked car at the end of the driveway.

Frantic that she was about to get into some fucker's car, I called out, "I can take you."

I didn't expect her to look over her shoulder, but she did. And I clenched my jaw when I saw her eyes narrowing on me. So, I gestured to the car next to me—Spike's car—and said roughly, "To your interview. I mean, it's cheaper—"

"I'll settle with this, Myles." She threw the door open to prove her point. She lowered herself into the seat but kept her impassive expression pointed to me. "At least I know what I'm getting into with Yosef."

She peered to the driver and smiled sweetly and—what the fuck? A mother fucking dude was driving her? And she smiled at him?

"Althea." My voice lowered gruffly, not realizing that I'd been trying to glimpse over her shoulder until I saw her brows raise in the corner of my eye. "Please let me take you. I fucking swear, we don't have to talk. I won't talk to you. But just let me make sure you get there safe."

For what felt like minutes, her eyes skimmed over me, and for the first time in almost two weeks, I had hope that she'd give me a chance.

She slammed the door, and it felt like she took my heart with her.

Stunned with disbelief, I watched the car kick into motion. But it was barely out of sight before I shook off my hopelessness and jumped into Spike's car. I don't give a flying fuck if this was stalker shit, but I was following that goddamn car until I knew she got there safe.

───⋅☾ ☽⋅───

I surpassed protective services and reached full-out fucking stalker.

Once I saw the car had safely deposited her in front of some fancy white building, I intended to drive home. But every time I thought about leaving her alone, I remembered her telling me about all the violence she witnessed, living in the city. The mere thought of her being put in danger by someone had me wanting to rip someone's throat clean off.

So, I parked myself at some random ass coffee shop—there was five hipster fucking cafe's in the same street—across from the building she entered. I quickly got myself a drink and sat in the small patio they had, and I stayed there for three hours.

For the entire time, I thought about how fucking psychotic I was. But awareness was something, right? At least I wasn't psychotic and oblivious.